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Harley's Heroine Heist	By : solddate Category: DC Verse Comics > Birds Of Prey Views: 79413 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: Birds of Prey and all related characters belong to DC Comics as do all characters included in this story. This is a non-profit series written by several individuals who gained no profit for writing the chapters for which they are credited.

Chapter List
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"Ten-HUT!" Harley ordered, casually dropping the cassette player & headphones back onto the projector cart.
Batwoman immediately stiffened her frame in an attempt to stand at attention, as per her military instincts. However, with her hands chained & shackled above her head and her booted feet just barely able to make contact with the floor, she couldn't really manage the simple feat in her exhausted state.
Harley internally stifled a giggle at how ridiculous the once-straightfaced vigilante looked. Her chin and chest were all thrust out proudly on display as any good soldier, but that didn't change the fact she was still dangling from the ceiling, which forced her onto her tiptoes, while a whole mess of girl-cum was staining her precious uniform from the inside. Truth be told, she had never had this much fun breaking a super heroine before. Well, funny-fun anyway, sexy-fun probably still went to Zee-Zee.
"So..." Harley leaned forward, her bulging inquisitive eyes just a few inches away from Kate's. "Think ya my Number One Fan now, huh?"
"Yes, Mistress!" Kate cried passionately. Down below, the mind-melted vigilante was rubbing her thighs together furiously. Despite playing with her hot snatch throughout, Harley hadn't let Kate cum once since the film began and now she needed more than anything in her life. She needed her Mistress' addictive touch to send over the edge!
"Well, ya don't just get to claim that 'cos you watched my lil' docu-drama!" Harley declared, kicking the projector's cart back lightly so that it rolled back from the heroine. "Real fangirls prove it! Where was I born?!"
"Brocklehurst, Brooklyn, Mistress!"
"How many states am I wanted in?"
"Twelve, plus the territory of Puerto Rico, Mistress!"
"If you wanted to get me somethin' for Christmas, what's the first place you'd look?"
"Wacko Toys, Mistress!"
"How many Hanukkahs have I celebrated in my life?"
"Thirteen, Mistress!"
"What's my favorite type of mallet?"
"Fine-grain cherry wood, Mistress!"
Harley stepped back from Batwoman, a pleased smile on her face. "You've done well, my little fangirl. Even those creepy geeks on the Internet can't match ya now." Her eyes narrowed mischievously as she tapped her fingers against the candy cane-striped vibrator in her hand. "Ready for your reward?"
"Ohhhhhh," Kate moaned throatily. "Yeeesssss, Mistress!"
Harley glanced up at the chains still binding the vigilante's gloved hands, and casually snapped her fingers. The handy lil' enchantment she'd had Zee-Zee cast on the chains instantly activated, causing the chains to evaporate into thin air.
Kate Kane instantly collapsed to her knees, gasping in lust and gratitude.
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"C'mon, c'mon..."
Poison Ivy glared at the cell phone in her hand like it had personally commandeered every logging, ranching, and oil-drilling expedition in the history of humanity. Not surprisingly, the little electronic gadget just kept on doing what it had been doing: ring away with no answer.
"Dammit, Harley...!" the redhead snarled under her breath. "Pick up already!"
For what felt like the hundredth time that night, she surreptitiously turned her head from left to right. No one was following her - no one she could see or hear, anyways. She had sequestered herself in a small forest in one of Gotham's minor parks - plenty of plants to command with a single gesture.
But when one was dealing with Batman (or one of his little helpers), that was rarely enough.
Right now, the botanical-themed villainess was disguised by a dark trench coat and wide-brimmed hat, which did well to hide her green, leafy costume and fiery red hair. She had also shifted her normally greenish skin tone to something more human-looking. For all the good it would do against the Bat's toys.
Already, she'd been forced to abandon a rather comfy hideout so she could escape Batman's investigations. The oaf was probably crawling all over her precious laboratory right now, looking for clues that would let him land her in Arkham yet again. Months of laying low to not attract his attention until she was ready to strike - all wasted.
She idly wondered how Batman had come to be mixed up in all this in the first place. Had her three idiot attackers led him to her? Or had his people been staking out her hideout for some time now? Granted, she hadn't exactly been original with her choice in hideouts this time around...
Whatever the cause, the Bat was definitely on her tail now. Going head-to-head with him was a tricky proposition at best - especially if he brought that roving tank he called a car into play - and it was something she couldn't afford to engage in right now.
Not when Harley's well being - and maybe her life - were at stake.
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Harley sucked in a sharp breath as she felt Kate Kane's warm lips against her nether regions. Her other slave-sluts had been everywhere from "decent" to "above-average" when they'd first gotten the honor of eating their mistress out, but this one...!
Well, what could she expect from a heroine who'd actually been well-learned in the art of cunnilingus for years?
"Aiiiieeeeeee!!!" Harley howled dramatically as her juices gushed out, right into Batwoman's waiting mouth. "Oh, baby! You've-" She grabbed Kate's fire-red hair and hung on tight, grinding herself against the taller woman as hard as possible. "You've been wasting your time out there, playing superhero! This is where you really belong!"
"Mmmm," Kate groaned wantonly, planting kiss after kiss on Harley's wet pussy lips. "I was young and foolish, Mistress. Please forgive your Number-One fan for her lapse in judgment! Pretty please?"
With a smug grin, Harley pulled Kate's head away from her pussy and regarded the tamed Batwoman with fiery blue eyes. Kate was still clad from neck to toe in that silly (but very form-fitting) uniform of hers, but every inch of it was now practically dripping with commingled sweat and love juices. Yes, the former "heroine" was looking quite disgraced now, indeed...
Arching a brow, Harley turned her head to the side. "Hmm... I dunno..."
Harley deliberately dragged out her "thought process", regarding Kate with a critical eye. Internally, of course, she was delighted over how Kate seemed to be hanging off of every second. She was truly Batwoman's sun and moon now, and she loved every moment of it!
"Okey-dokey!" the red-and-black-clad madwoman suddenly chirped.
Kate's face lit up, like she'd just learned of an international peace treaty being signed (or whatever it is these BORING superheroes dreamed of all day). At that very moment, Harley could've sworn that she heard a small orgasm exploding between Kate's legs.
But then, Kate's face suddenly assumed a slightly more uncomfortable position. Harley raised an eyebrow, but said nothing for the moment.
"C-Can I finally take this suit off now, Mistress?" Kate asked timidly. "I-I know my body is nothing impressive next to yours, but I w-want you to see it without..."
Harley scrunched up her face in thought, her eyes clouding over with a new layer of lust. "Welllllll... my costume designer's on the other side'a town right now, but..."
Kate perked up eagerly, if a bit fearfully. "But...?"
Harley scratched the back of her head. "Well, I guess I can letcha pick out yer own costume..."
Kate clapped her hands together, her face now twice as bright as before. She looked like a little girl who'd just been promised her first trip to Disney World. "Really?"
"Sure!" Harley nodded. "After all, my Number One Fangirl should have tastes matching my exact expectations, riiiiiiight?"
As she spoke, the blond madwoman leaned in until her face was only inches away from Kate's. A truly terrifying grin split her face, complemented by bulging eyes.
Kate only flinched a little before bucking up in determination. "Yes, Mistress Harley!"
Harley opened her mouth to tease her little fangirl some more, only to be cut off by the muffled sound of a familiar jingle, coming from another room in her hideout.
They're Pinky and the Brain...
Yes Pinky and the Brain...
One is a Genius...
The Other's Insane...
A scowl overtook Harley's lovely features as she heard the ringtone of her "emergency" cell phone. "Oh, for the love of...!"
"M-Mistress?" Kate asked, shrinking back a little from her idol's air of fury.
Harley turned back to her Number One Fangirl with a somewhat apologetic grin. "Sorry, Katie. That's my special phone a-ringing. I gotta take it."
"I-I understand, Mistress." To her credit, Kate almost managed to keep the look of disappointment off of her face. "I-I'll wait here, like a good little girl, however long you want me to."
"Atta girl!" Harley beamed. She pressed a key into Kate's gloved hand. "Here. The costume room's just down the hall. There's a sign on the door. Pick out what ya want for yer new slut suit, but..."
She held up one warning finger.
"NO unzipping yer costume, got it?"
"Yes, Mistress!" Kate cried standing to (a slightly wobbly) attention and saluting her mistress like a good little soldier-slash-slut-slave.
With a smile, Harley strode out of the room and headed for her office, where the ringing phone sat. A second later, Kate exited the room as well, headed in the exact opposite direction.
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On the other side of Gotham, two men - one slim and wiry, the other massive and bulky - gave a simultaneous start. A dark, lithe figure was entering the apartment that they had been hired to keep watch on.
"Awww, yeah." Killer Croc punched his palm, a toothy grin spreading across his face. "Time to rock."
"Remember the plan," the Tally Man hissed as he readied his guns. "I'll go in through the back. If she tries to escape from the front, stop her by any non-lethal means necessary."
Croc grunted. "Not makin' any promises, Stretch."
The Tally Man thought about lecturing his "partner" on the values of professionalism, but decided against it. He alone would be more than competent enough for this simple bag-and-grab. Hopefully.
Croc simply crossed his arms and leaned against the brick wall behind him as he watched the slimmer mercenary move toward Catwoman's apartment. The Tally Man didn't so much walk as slither - though that might have just been an illusion from his baggy robes. Either way, it was kind of creepy-looking.
In less than a minute, the Tally Man had went behind the apartment building and vanished completely.
Silence.
Croc yawned and scratched his nose twice, wondering if-
BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM BLAM
He stumbled back at the noise, blinking rapidly. When his vision had realigned again, he realized that the apartment was now very well-lit indeed.
With gunfire.
Then he heard the sound of shattering glass, and the desperate howl of his partner.
"Don't let her get away!"
A moment later, the lithe, black-clad figure of Catwoman was plunging out of the apartment and racing across the street, a feral snarl on her face and her famed bullwhip in hand. She landed on one of the cars parked by the side of the street, looking ready to spring again.
Rolling his shoulders, Croc picked up the lid from a nearby trash can and flung it straight at her with all he had.
CRASH.
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Click.
"This better be good, Red," Harley half-snarled into her emergency cell. "I was in the middle 'a somethin' important!"
"Really?" Ivy's voice sounded even colder and more annoyed than usual. "Do you consider attacked by hired guns that YOUR demented boyfriend sent to be good?"
Harley blinked. "Uh... can ya repeat that?"
"I. Was. Attacked. By. Hired. Guns. That. Your. Demented. Boyfriend. Sent."
Harley felt a sudden ice-cold prick of fear in the pit of her stomach. "Uh, Red... I think you better start at the beginnin'..."
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The Joker sat atop the hood of his idling car, head bowed in thought. His famous smile had all but vanished, ironically improving the disguise that the layer of flesh-toned makeup over his face offered.
What was he going to do?
His lunatic's intuition never lied (expect when it did), and right now, it was telling him that something big was about to happen, and he would be in the crossfire whether he liked it or not.
What was more, he had a nasty feeling that Harley was involved somehow. And that she wasn't so sweet on him anymore.
He hrrmed and huffed and rapped his fingers against his chin and did all of the things that geniuses were supposed to do right before they did something great. None of them worked all that well.
Perhaps he could dial in the Bat? Eccch. Maybe as a last resort...
Beg for favors from one of his old pals (maybe Lexy)? No, he still liked to think he had more dignity than that.
Then, a third idea popped into his head. A terrible idea. A wonderfully terrible idea. An awful, wonderfully terrible idea.
(By now, his mouth had stretched itself into a grin exceeding even his normal expression. A poor stray cat that just happened to catch sight of it instantly died of a heart attack. That just made him smile wider.)
He was just beginning to get off the hood of the car when he heard a beep-beep-beep coming from his pocket. With a quirked brow, he reached inside and took out a communication device that looked much like a yellow smiley-face pin.
"Yo, Laughin' Boy?"
"Waylon," the Joker said politely, silently ticking off recipes for alligator stew in his head. Just for reference.
"Yeah, we got the alley cat," Croc half-growled and half-chuckled at the other end. "Stretch totaled half her apartment, though. Someone's probably called the cops by now."
The Joker snorted. "In other words, it'll be days before anyone actually shows up. Good ol' Gotham."
"Amen to that," Croc laughed. "So, where d'ya want her?"
The Joker rattled off a quick series of calculations under his breath, slapped himself upside the head three times, and decided that a slight change of plans was in order. Hadn't Croc told him something once about Gotham's sewers, once upon a cold winter night in Arkham...?
"Listen, Waylon, you know the old A.L. Bester Library in Lyntown?"
A pause. Then-
"Yeah, I know it." Croc's voice was much slower and much more suspicious now.
"Good man! Meet me there with Miss Kitty and your new pal. I'll have something there that'll blow your socks off."
And before Croc could say anything in reply, the Joker hit the right eye on the smiley-face pin, shutting off communications. He carefully tucked the communicator back into his pocket, climbed back into his car, and began heading straight in the direction of Lyntown, a most fitting little tune on his lips.
"Solomon Grundy, born on a Monday, Christened on a stark and stormy Tuesday..."
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Harley sank back into her favorite overstuffed easy chair, her attire now very different indeed. Rather than her usual spandex or dominatrix leathers, she had optioned for a chequered overcoat, shoulder cape, and deerstalker cap. Still done in her signature red-and-black color scheme, of course - no point in fixing what wasn't broken.
The most prominent new addition, however, was the oversized calabash pipe in her right hand. It was a bubble pipe; Harley had never liked the smell of tobacco, and an athlete like her couldn't afford holes in her lungs. But nevertheless, the image it was meant to conjure was unmistakable.
For the moment, she was Harleen Quinzel: Clown Princess of Crime Detection. This was her Thinking Room. And by Queen and Country, she would find out what the hell was going on.
Hmm... now lemme see... angry Red plus three mercenaries, divided by current events... take the square root of Pud'n, multiplied by the number of weeks we've spent from each other... add the recent Arkham breakout, carry the one...
"GREAT HIPPIES OF THE MISSISSIPPI!" she cried, eyes springing wide open. "OF COURSE! PUD'N IS SECRET PEN PALS WITH JARED LETO!"
She paused.
"No, no, wait... forgot the decimal point..."
A minute and a half of more rigorous calculations later, she had arrived at the right conclusion.
"So... Pud'n wants me back, and he wants be back the hard way, huh?"
A blazing blue fire erupted in her eyes as she tossed the pipe away into a corner of her Thinking Room. She stood up from the chair, fists clenched and a horrible grin on her face.
"Well, FUCK him! And not in the fun way, either! He could come crawling back to me on his hands an' knees an' it'd do him no good!"
Her eyes narrowed as she envisioned all of her lovely angels giving him the beating of his life. Beatings that that giant chicken, Batman, could never have imagined.
"An' if he wants ta play rough... guess I'll just hafta play rougher!"
Mind instantly cleared (by her standards), the mad jester stood up and puffed on her bubble-pipe some more. As she watched the bubbles floating up toward the ceiling, something else began to occur to her.
"B-But... ceiling starts with "C"... C? C? C! C for Catwoman!"
Of course - it all made sense now, Pud'n had gone after Red trying to find a lead to her, but he wasn't the kind of guy who put all his grenades into one launcher (except when he was). Red stood more than a chance of fighting off any hired muscle he could bring, so he'd probably sent other goons after other people connected to her...
People like Kitty...
"Oh, no you don't!" Harley snarled, caught between anger and genuine concern. She dashed out of the room, praying that the Gotham City Sirens would be united once more before one of them met her untimely end.
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Edit/N: Here's a combo of two hefty chapters from clifford.cao on superstories.net, aka RubberLotusShipper. Will Harley & her Angels reach Selina in time? Who knows, but let us know what you like us to with DC's resident cat burglar, we genuinely still haven't decided!
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Harley's Heroine Heist